Whoa ho ho last night a person who I will not name to protect their innocence and their reputation took me to see Rufus Wainwright. Do you know who that is? I did not. What I heard was, “Evening out with fun friend, ok.” Holy shit. It became much, much, much more than that, unfortunately.
At the door there was a sign that said something to the effect of “Rufus Wainwright asks that you do not clap during the first act.” We were told again at the door by some poor ticket-scanning man who had to keep a straight face. “Mr. Rufus asks…” Okay, I don’t think he called him Mr. Rufus, but I like the way that sounds.
When it was time for Mr. Rufus to start, the auditorium went dark. An employee of the theater took to the stage to remind us to STFU for the third time, “Including as Mr. Rufus enters and leaves the stage, as that is part of the song cycle.” We were told that there would be some art happening behind Mr. Rufus as he played, which was part of the show.
Mr. Rufus ENTERED, stage left. What was this, two heads? No, some kind of elaborate ruffle-goiter thing behind his head and a…was that a cape? flowing behind? All the stage needed now was a candelabra and some bats to count. Was the cape still going on? Did it even enter the stage fully? The cape was so frilly and wow, it was kind of like Edward and Bella fused into one body or something. A couple of small spots were dramatically trained on Mr. Rufus as he sat at the piano and began.
The screen started up behind him, with his playing. It was eyeballs. Actually, it was one eyeball, a grey eye that opened and closed slowly and was gobbed with makeup. Sometimes there were lots, sometimes just one, just like Whack-a-Mole. After the first song people began wooting and clapping, and then stopped abruptly. Mr. Rufus asks that you refrain from making any noise, ok.
The lyrics–I dunno, I tried to follow them, I really did. Sometimes they seemed to not be in English, or in any other language really. Mr. Rufus didn’t seem to have much of a range, he just kept droning on and on very soulfully about something. At one point when things got especially cacophonous, I felt little headaches develop and kind of crackle around across the front of my forehead, which has never ever happened before. An actual music-induced headache.
Finally after an hour or four, he stopped playing. Whack-an-Eye stopped. He rose DRAMATICALLY and begin lurching out the way he came, like Nosferatu, possibly treading on his neverending cape. Finally, once he left the stage, people began whooping and clapping wildly.
“Are people buying this?” I asked my friend.
We fled and I offered to buy drinks, since I put the kibosh on things. As we left there was a man leaving whose front was completely covered in vomit. We took a picture of the sign on the way out.
Aw, that’s too bad. He’s always struck me as a pretty fun guy, but maybe not in concert.
My sister and I went to see Philip Glass’s “House of Usher”. I have never seen so many black turtlenecks in one place. I liked a beret and a little pretention as much as the next girl, but it was just too much. We sat there with tears streaming down our faces, working very hard not to make eye contact of any kind, absolutely in pain from trying not to laugh out loud. At the intermission we tore down the aisle as a unit.
It turns out it’s one of my happiest memories, being in that and knowing the person next to me felt the same way. Maybe a kind of Stockholm syndrome.
YES, don’t get me wrong, I am so happy I went. Hilarious. It is the shared bad experience.
HAHAHAHA! This made me laugh outloud three times (and I’m alone). Its especially funny to me because the Pandora station I created THIS WEEK keeps playing that Hallelujah song that he didn’t write, but that he sings. I remember looking it and thinking: Rufus Wainwright. Hmmmmm.
Now when it plays I’ll be thinking of a goiter cape and bats.
Well helloooo Hope.
I like a few of his songs and his sister (hell, his whole family) is talented, too. I remember seeing him in a Gap ad a million years ago and then again in some gay rag (an actual magazine like Out or something, not the pejorative) but got reacquainted when I watched Leonard Cohen: I’m Your Man.
I do remember him appearing on the Elvis Costello show on Sundance or IFC and he seemed a bit like a loon. I wonder if his mother’s death put him over the edge.
RW’s family and LC were friends and neighbors at some point, so his covering of the LC classic “Hallelujah” was almost a foregone conclusion.
OMG I’m sorry I just regurgitated all over your comments section.
I’m not sorry. But if you’re really SORRY sorry, I can delete. Otherwise, comments welcome. I was talking to someone today who is a long time fan of RW and that gave me a new perspective. So many rock things go under my radar.
I cannot stand Rufus Wainwright. Sure, he’s gay, but I find it hard to even hear the song through all of his “style.” If I had to sit through an entire concert, I think I’d put forks through my eyes.
I found out about him from Spectacle. Have you seen it? It’s awesome. It’s Elvis Costello’s show. http://www.sundancechannel.com/spectacle/ Apparently Rufus Wainwright comes from a venerable musical family.
His sister, Martha, is an awesome singer – you’d like her:
http://www.myspace.com/marthawainwright
And the really interesting thing is that Rufus has apparently written an opera – and that this seems to be a better metier for him! Here’s a clip I just stumbled across. The section in the middle where the kids are performing Tosca is pretty darn cute.
http://budurl.com/fl47
cheers! @catmikk
Parts of this entry made me LOL, especially the man leaving who was covered in vomit. I don’t know why but it makes me laugh, even as I type this.
Mr Rufus is really good when he’s covering Leonard Cohen (“Hallelujah”, “Chelsea Hotel”). But his own songs are, as you mention, rather drone-y. His mother and her sister are kick-ass singers.
Well hello. :)
I’ve still been here all along. Just not commenting regularly. You’re one of my favorites.
I also am a reader of ye olde queens food blog, even though jellied meat and such make me want to throw up a little. :)
As a pretty long-time RW fan, I have to say that his music as a collection is a bit like sorting through the shelves at a dinky thrift store- most of it isn’t worth a second glance, but every once in a while (mebbe two or three times an album) you find something just so good/over the top/perfectly suited for your particular quirks that you MUST take it home immediately and poke it with a stick. Or you know, whatever you kids do these days to enjoy things.
I’d apologize for that really quite awful Canadian export, but it means that he’s not here for a while, so I’m pleased.
Hi Catmikk, sorry I missed your comment in my queue for so long. Martha did open for him, interesting. Thanks for the info.